


Rules of Engagement

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Altean Shiro (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, First Meetings, Galra Keith (Voltron), Intercrural Sex, M/M, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Shapeshifting, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13121499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Kiezan is sent into exile on Earth to keep him safe, his older brother Lotor gives him some rules to live by - but during his first day at the Galaxy Garrison, his rules of engagement are quickly challenged by an Altean ex-prisoner. Written for pareefae/pervypiksi for the Sheith Secret Santa!





	1. Chapter 1

           In one of the few memories Kiezan had of his brother that invoked any sort of warmth, the ceiling light had been broken. He remembered that. He remembered staring up at it, trying to ignore that he and his brother were alone together, that Lotor was acknowledging his existence. That Lotor had asked him to come here.

            Lotor had rested his hand on Kiezan’s shoulder, fingers cold, and he had told him about the rules of engagement.

            “I know those. I know how to fight -”

            “Not those.”

            Kiezan had dropped his gaze from the broken light into the corner, but still had to arch his neck to look up at Lotor’s face. Perhaps it was the Altean blood that made Lotor so much taller. Perhaps it was the sapien’s blood that made Kiezan so small.

            “In your life, you will be surrounded by your enemies and mine. People who want to hurt you. People who do not understand you.”

            Kiezan nodded. He’d gotten most of this from Father, and from his servants.

            “They will not trust you, so do not trust them. Not for anything. Lie if you have to - honesty is for fools in high castles.” Lotor’s face was solemn - almost sad. Kiezan wondered where Father was. He was supposed to be visiting.

           “Even to my friends?”

           “Of course. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer. Don’t make bargains you can’t honour, don’t make alliances without knowing what benefit it has for you. And  _don’t_ show them your weakness. Ever.”

           Kiezan tried to commit every word to memory. There was a finality to it that worried him. “…Lotor,” he asked after a moment, “where are you going?”

           “Hopefully nowhere.”

           “You’re sending  _me_ away.”

           “To keep you safe.”

           “To keep me out of the way.”

           Lotor chuckled slightly, then ran his hands over the thatch of black fur resting between Kiezan’s ears. “You’ll be fine. It’s Earth. You can get in touch with your other half.” It was the closest thing to a tease Kiezan had ever gotten from him, and he couldn’t help a smile. “Your servants have gotten everything you need.”

           “Wait, I’m - I’m going  _now?_ ”

           “I’m afraid so.”

           Kiezan felt the rage in his throat, or perhaps it was disappointment, or something else entirely. “What if I don’t want you to go?”

           “I’m afraid it’s an order.”

           Kiezan swallowed his frustrated tears. Then he nodded.

           “Hey.” Lotor smiled down at him, and Kiezan wondered what he was planning. There was always something. “Just remember what I told you. Okay?”

           Then Lotor was gone, and the stern woman who guarded him, day and night, was beckoning him out of the room. Kiezan could feel the tension in the air. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t place it for the life of him.

           “Acxa, is Earth nice?”

           She smiled down at him, although it was a little tense. “I’m sure it is.”

           “Is Lotor going to be okay?”

           “Yes.” She was lying. But Kiezan pretended to believe it. For both their sakes.

—-

            **THREE YEARS LATER**

           The Garrison uniform hung on the back of his door, and Kiezan glared at it, wondering if it would burst into flames if he radiated enough hate at it.

           “Keith?” came the call from the other room.

           Kiezan didn’t respond. There was a sigh from the other room, and a moment later, Acxa’s head poked around the corner. “Keith. Come on. You have to get used to it.”

           “My name’s not Keith.”

           “It is while you’re attending a school that’s 80% Earth natives.”

           “Kiezan was fine for the last one.”

           “The last one burned down. Besides, the Garrison is different. They’re training you to be a pilot.”

           Kiezan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. “A species that has a 50% success rate on faster-than-light travel is going to teach me how to pilot.”

           “Fine,” she snapped. “You can sit at home and be bored and never get behind the wheel of anything.” She vanished again, and Kiezan stared up at the Garrison uniform again.

           It wasn’t that he missed Lotor. He hadn’t known him well enough to miss him. But - well - he supposed he  _did_ miss him. Even if most of what he had to miss was Lotor’s coattails sweeping past him, brief looks that seemed just as wary as they were affectionate, and the advice his brother had given him.

            _Rules of engagement._

He got to his feet, and his pride stinging, took down the uniform. He was going to be late.

—

            _They will not trust you. Do not trust them._

He thought he’d been prepared. He’d been smaller at the last school, and there’d been fewer people. But the Garrison was huge, and he found himself walking into throngs of people - people who parted ahead of him with stares and whispers.

           He wasn’t the only alien here. He knew that. But he knew with just as much certainty that he was the only Galra. The only one with soft purple fur and ears that twitched below his small horns and a tail that he kept tucked around his leg, trying not to attract even more attention. The only one with ridges on his arms and legs that bit through the linen of the uniform.

            _Keith,_ he reminded himself. His name was Keith now. A human name. Like it made a speck of difference.

            _Keep your friends close. Keep your enemies closer._

How was he supposed to do that?

            _Lie if you have to._

He didn’t know where to start.

           “They’re letting  _Galra_ in now? Hasn’t it been six months since we were killing each other?” came the mutter from behind him.

            _I’ve been here for three years,_ Kiezan thought to himself with suppressed rage. He’d never killed anybody.

            _Don’t show your weakness._

           He pretended he hadn’t heard anything. But the whispers didn’t stop. They followed him from classroom to classroom. They followed him to the lunchroom, and he wished - for the first time that he could remember - that he  _didn’t_ have the hearing he did, that he was as thick and slow and deaf as the humans who thought they were being sneaky or quiet around him, who seemed to think he couldn’t hear every word.

           “He doesn’t  _look_  that vicious.”

           “They sheath their claws. And have you  _seen_ his teeth?”

           “I don’t know, it’s kind of interesting, don’t you think? I mean, we’ve got Olkari here.”

           “Olkari aren’t  _dangerous._ The Galra committed genocide, did you forget that?”

           Kiezan picked up the knife and fork and started working at the piece of meat on his plate. He didn’t know how to stop listening.  _Don’t show weakness. Don’t show weakness._

Then, suddenly, everything went quiet. He wondered if he’d done something he hadn’t realized, then he glanced up.

           Somebody else had come into the lunchroom. At first, Kiezan couldn’t figure out why it was such a big deal. Just another person. But it didn’t take him long for him to notice the arm that didn’t move quite right, or the scar across the man’s nose… or the marks on the man’s high cheekbones, a soft blue against his skin.

           “Everybody’s  _looking_ at me, Iverson,” came the nervous mumbled, once again as clear as day to Kiezan’s ears.

           Kiezan suddenly wasn’t hungry. He put the cutlery down. Acxa had warned him about the POWs that had gotten released - but he hadn’t expected them to show up on his first day.  _I wasn’t anywhere near the war!_ he wanted to scream.  _I had nothing to do with any of it!_ But he couldn’t quite convince himself of it either. He was supposed to be a prince. He should have done  _something._ Instead he’d been sent safely into exile while people died.

           He wondered how hard he had to focus on himself to make himself disappear. But like his efforts with the uniform that morning, he had no success.

           He was so focused on self-effacement that the clatter of a tray jolted him out of it with a start.

           “Careful, careful!” came the small laugh. “Off in your own world, huh?”

           “Yes,” Kiezan mumbled before thinking it through - then looked up at who was sitting in front of him with wilting horror. The Altean ex-prisoner was sitting across from him with a gentle smile and what looked an awful lot like amusement glinting in his eyes. Kiezan found himself staring at the streak of white in his hair, mostly out of uncertainty out of where he  _should_ stare. Then he dropped his eyes to the prisoner’s empty tray.

           “…Shouldn’t you have food on there?” he asked, feeling his throat dry up.

           The ex-POW shrugged. “I’ll get it when everybody stops looking at me. I told Iverson I wanted to wait a few days, but he doesn’t want me to miss more class than I have to.”

           Kiezan found himself nodding. It just seemed easier. “Makes, er. Makes sense.”

           The Altean raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you alright?”

           “Yes?”

           He extended a hand across the table. “I’m Takashi Shirogane. You can call me Shiro if you want.”

           Kiezan swallowed. Hard. Then he took Shiro’s hand with a smile that he hoped looked less uneasy than it felt. “Kiezan - Keith! My name’s Keith.”

           “…Which is it?”

           “Keith. Definitely Keith.” He took back his hand and sat on it, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass himself again. Was it too late to escape?

           Shiro rested his head on his hand with a small laugh. “Well, Definitely Keith, it’s my first day here. Mind showing me around?”

“Oh, I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“It’s my first day too. I don’t know where anything is. We’ll get lost.”

“I’ll tell you a secret.” Shiro leaned across the table. “I would much,  _much_ prefer getting lost,” he stage-whispered.

Kiezan blinked in confusion. “…Wait, really?”

“Everybody’s  _staring_ at me. It’s a tad uncomfortable. Food first, though.” Shiro got to his feet, brushing some of his hair out of his face.

Kiezan supposed it was the warmest welcome he’d gotten all day. So he got to his feet, leaving his tray behind, and tried not to revel a little  _too_ much in the new flavour of stare he was getting. Apparently Altean ex-prisoners with a little bit of fame to their name weren’t  _meant_ to be getting buddy-buddy with Galra should-be-criminals.

——

           As it turned out, Alteans weren’t nearly as stick-in-the-mud, dull or overly-pacifist as the people around him had kept warning. Rather the opposite; about ten minutes into their sojourn in the empty classroom where Shiro insisted ‘if they waited long enough maybe a class would show up’, Shiro had challenged him to an arm-wrestling competition, made three dark jokes about his own mortality, and pulled several increasingly-disrespectful faces at any mention of Iverson.

           Kiezan hadn’t really decided if he liked him or not. But he’d certainly decided he was more  _interesting._

           “So,” Shiro asked after a moment, white forelock bobbing over his head and manic excitement fading into a much calmer expression, “how much trouble have they been giving you?”

           Kiezan started at that. “I don’t - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered.

           “You know, I came to this school before I joined the war. They, um - they wanted the Altean royal line to stay safe.”

           “You’re  _royalty?_ ”

           “Yeah. Everybody else got wiped out when the planet got destroyed.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it took a moment for Kiezan to figure out how to respond, and by the time he’d settled on a facial expression, Shiro had moved on. “And I remember being one of the only ones here when humans were still trying to get used to us.”

           “But you don’t…  _look_ that different.”

           Shiro smiled, and there was a hint of darkness in it. “Alteans are chameleons. Trust me, I didn’t look like this when I first came here.”

           “But - your arm -”

           “Oh! Yeah, we can only do so much.” Shiro brightened a little. “Check this out though!” He closed his eyes - and his skin faded into a dark purple, the same shade as Kiezan’s fur. 

           Kiezan stared at him, at the tuft of white hair over his face, and Shiro opened his eyes to look at him. “What do you think?”

           And much to his horror, Kiezan started to cry.

——

           “Keith?”

           Kiezan would have ignored Acxa as usual, but now the name hurt that much more. “Leave me alone,” he snarled, and he hated the rough sound of his voice.

           She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “ _That_ bad?”

           “I don’t want to talk about it.”

           “So don’t. But at least eat something. It’s my job to make sure you don’t starve yourself and I’ve seen what they serve at those places.”

           Kiezan stared at the food on the table, and then flushed as his eyes started welling up again. Every time he stopped being angry, he started being sad.

           “Keith?”

           “Stop  _calling_ me th-that,” he mumbled, wiping hurriedly at his eyes. It was too late - a few moments later, Acxa’s hand landed on his head, brushing the tufts of black hair out of his eyes.

           “Kiezan?” she murmured. “Did somebody hurt you?”

           “I can deal with it.”

           “You know I’m here to help you, right? And if that means tearing somebody’s throat out -”

           “No,” he said, almost too quickly, and flushed even harder at the look on Acxa’s face. “It’s - it’s not that.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

           “Sit down. C’mon. Tell your auntie about it.”

           “ _Auntie?_ ”

           “Apparently that’s what I am in human terms. I don’t know. I’m trying here.”

           Kiezan snickered a little, then wiped his nose. “There’s, um. There’s an Altean boy. At school.”

           Acxa’s face drained of blood, her cheeks turning a particular shade of lavender. “Oh dear.”

           He nodded. “And he’s being really nice to me. Shouldn’t - shouldn’t he hate me?”

           “I - well - I don’t  _know.”_

Kiezan thought about how he’d cried when Shiro had shapeshifted, how much he’d suddenly missed his brother and his home after years of just settling into being angry. And he thought about how scared he’d been when Shiro had reached forward and pulled him into a hug. Just a normal hug. The smallest thing in the world.

           “The war’s over now,” he mumbled. “Doesn’t that mean I have to go home?”

           “Not until they sort out all the succession issues. It’s been three years since Zarkon was assassinated and all his children are still fighting for the right to rule.”

           He had to laugh a little at that. “And I’m out of the running.”

           “It’s safer this way. Trust me, you don’t want to be emperor. I’d much rather you were alive and in exile.”

           Kiezan nodded quietly. He was starting to think the same thing. “…And my brother?’

           “You have lots of brothers,” Acxa said evasively.

           “Auntie.”

           “Eugh, that sounds weird when you say it. I don’t know yet.”

           He nodded again. He’d figure it out, he supposed.

—–

           The next day, he found himself milling around the Garrison gates, suddenly too nervous to go in.  _Rules of engagement,_ he reminded himself, but that just brought home how much more he’d failed yesterday. Don’t show weakness. His brother had said that, and what had he done? Burst into tears in front of an Altean, that was what.

           “Hey.”

           Before Kiezan could figure out what to say or how he was going to say it, Shiro was standing in front of him. He looked terribly awkward, even more than yesterday, and Kiezan realized for the first time how  _big_ he was. Big and lanky and broad-shouldered - Kiezan’s polar opposite.

           “Hi.”

           Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it again, thinking. Kiezan decided to let him work it out. A moment later, he tried again. “Listen, I - I didn’t mean to freak you out. I - er - I didn’t - I didn’t get to be affectionate with people a lot. Or at all. You know, while I was -” He cleared his throat. “I jumped the gun, and I’m sorry.”

           Kiezan stared at him, trying to do the math in his head. “…Wait, what are you apologizing for?”

           Shiro gave him a concerned look. “I hugged you and you ran away.”

           “… _Oh._ ” Beat. “Oh.  _You’re_ apologizing?”

           “Yes?” Shiro seemed ready to either laugh or start coughing. “Is that weird?”

           Kiezan sighed. “No. I have class.”  _Don’t show weakness. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer -_ and Shiro wasn’t either, was he? He was somebody that made Kiezan’s head spin and made him want to smile and cry and stay close all at once, and that was - that was  _dangerous._

He turned away, but Shiro’s hand caught his.

           “Look, I…” Shiro exhaled. “I’m older than everybody else here. And I know it’s probably assuming a lot, but you look - you look like you could use a friend. I know I  _definitely_ could.” His thumb rubbed a circle onto the back of Kiezan’s hand. “And I’m gonna be honest, Keith, I’d hate to scare you away.”

           “I - I -” Kiezan stared down at Shiro’s hand, then back up at Shiro. “Shouldn’t you  _hate_ me?”

           “For what?”

           “I’m  _Galra._ ”

           “And I’m Altean. Your point?”

           “My people, they -”

           “Didn’t consult you on whatever actions they took. Especially given that a, you’re a teenager, and b, you’re out  _here.”_ Shiro didn’t let go of Kiezan’s hand, and came into step with him with a cheeky grin. “Besides, you’re too cute and fuzzy to hate -  _ow!_ ”

           Kiezan was so glad his fur covered his blush. “I can agree to friends,” he mumbled. “And I’m not cute.”

           “You didn’t say no to fuzzy.”

           “I’m grumpy. Not totally in denial.”

           Shiro snickered, then used his other hand to ruffle Keith’s hair. “This’ll work out just fine, Definitely Keith.”

           “Ugh. Is that a thing?”

           “It’s a thing.”

           “It’s not a thing.”

           “It is definitely a thing.”

           He supposed the rules of engagement still applied. What were rules without exceptions? (Keith wondered, with a quiet, sad nostalgia, why else Lotor could have possibly sent him away - than to keep his own exception safe.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meant to put this up ages ago as part of the present, but then things happened! Here is the smutty chapter; I may add more chapters later on as the 'inbetween' ^_^
> 
> Warning for....weird alien biology?

Kissing was something Keith couldn’t figure out how he felt about yet. On one hand, it made him feel all wobbly and warm and like he was going to burst. On the other hand… uh, well, it made him feel all wobbly and warm and like he was going to burst. 

 

Maybe that was just the Altean pheromones. At least if Keith blamed it on  _ those,  _ he didn’t have to feel so embarrassed about lowkey rutting onto Shiro’s lap every time they made o- Kissed. They were kissing. Nothing so vulgar as  _ making out. _

 

However, it was one thing not to know how to feel about kissing. It was another to have Shiro’s hand trail down his fur-covered chest, and a little further down -

 

Keith squeaked and practically  _ jumped  _ off Shiro’s lap, landing ungraciously on his back on Shiro’s dormitory bed. The squealing of the springs below him paired with Shiro’s snort of laughter made the whole situation that much worse, and Keith tugged at the waistband of his cadet linen trousers more than a little self-consciously. “You  _ surprised  _ me.”

 

“I suppose I should have asked first.” Shiro admitted, his blue markings flashing a little. They did funny things when Shiro was turned on, Keith had started to realize, and they were glowing slightly. “Did it feel  _ that  _ weird?”

 

“N-no,” Keith grumbled. “I -” He settled for just grumbling incoherently rather than try to voice what he wanted. 

 

Shiro laughed again, and Keith snapped playfully at Shiro’s fingers as they waggled over his face. “Watch your fingers, toothy.” Then his fingers rested on Keith’s leg, and he lay down next to him. “Want me to be more careful?” he breathed.

 

Keith managed to nod, his voice leaving him with nothing but his breaths that were coming harder and harder. Shiro pressed into his back, and Keith let out a whine as he felt Shiro’s erection against him. His fingers trailed down his stomach again, but this time undid the top button of his uniform trousers before exploring downwards.

 

Keith shivered, arching his back against Shiro as his lover’s fingers brushed against and then wrapped around his shaft. It was one of the few places on his body that was without fur, purple skin bare and sensitive when it hardened and poked out of its sheath.

 

Shiro tugged his trousers down his legs, exposing Keith’s crotch, and Keith stared down at himself with wonder. He wasn’t small, but Shiro’s hand was so big that in comparison the perspective looked warped, and so pale against the dark indigo of his shaft. And he was handling him with so much care, thumb rubbing over his slightly pointed tip and fingers caressing each of the ridges on his underside.

 

“Sh-Shiro-”

 

“Takashi,” Shiro breathed into his ear. “I want you to call me Takashi.”

 

“Ta-” Keith could barely catch his breath enough. “Taka-”

“Do you want me to make you cum?” Takashi whispered.

 

“I-I want more - please don’t stop -”

 

“One moment.” Shiro shuffled behind him, and then something slid between Keith’s thighs. “Is this okay?” he murmured, voice hot.

 

Holy fuck. Keith looked down, and Shiro’s cock rested below his, between Keith’s thighs, and -

 

“Are all Alteans -” He couldn’t quite finish the thought.

 

Shiro chuckled throatily. “Not all the time.” He bit gently on one of Keith’s twitching ears, pulling another moan from Keith’s throat. “I felt like giving your legs something  _ fun  _ to work with.”

 

If Keith could have physically melted, he would have. Shiro kept working his hand back and forth on Keith’s cock, and he found himself clinging to the sheets like a lifejacket, stuffing the fingers of his other hand into his mouth. Then Shiro began to move his hips, and -

 

“ _ Takashi! _ ”

 

“Aha, there you go,” Shiro murmured. “I knew you could do it.”

 

“Mm _ mmmph- _ ” Keith panted against his own hand - he was so close,  _ so close,  _ and the sensation of Shiro’s warm shaft between his thighs was almost too much to bear… “Takashi, Takashi, please -”

 

“Do you want to cum?” 

 

“Ple- _ ease - _ ”

 

“Alright,” Shiro whispered, and his hand kept moving, moving, moving - he pressed a gentle kiss to Keith’s cheek, so soft it felt like silk…

 

Keith cried out, muffling fingers forgotten, and shivered as ropes of cum shot out, landing on the sheets and his chest, painting his fur in white. Shiro didn’t stop moving his hand until every last drop had been milked out, his thrusts against Keith getting more and more erratic - but once Keith had ridden out his orgasm, Shiro pulled away.

 

“Shiro?” Keith mumbled in confusion, rolling over.

 

“Ah, don’t worry. You look adorable.”

 

Keith glanced up at Shiro’s flushed face, and the way his muscles were twitching. Then in a fit of courage, he crawled down the bed, nuzzling Shiro’s shaft with a curious glance upwards. The sudden gasp from Shiro was all he needed; he let his tongue dart out of his mouth, licking the streaks of sweat away from Shiro’s cock and exploring the glowing bands ringing the surface.

 

“F-fuck, Keith, I’m going to-”

 

Keith took the head into his mouth, and made a point of waving his tail behind him, blinking innocently up at Shiro. Shiro’s cum hit his tongue a few moments later, his boyfriend’s face contorting in pleasure, and Keith pulled away at the unexpected taste, letting the rest splatter over his face and chest to join the few streaks of his own.

 

Shiro slumped backwards, trying to catch his breath - then started to laugh, covering his mouth.

 

“Was it  _ that  _ good?”

 

“No - no, I just didn’t get to warn you.”

 

“Warn me what?” Keith looked down at one of his hands. A white glow stared back at him. “...What.”

 

“It, er. It…”

 

“It  _ glows? _ ”

 

“That’s why I stopped. But then you were so  _ eager - _ ”

 

“Are my lips -”

 

Shiro averted his eyes, trying to look innocent.

 

“I hate you.”

 

“Nah.” Shiro held out his arms. “Come cuddle me. I’m cute.”

 

“Good thing you are, too.”

  
One thing was for sure. Keith was pretty certain he’d never find _kissing_ weird again. 


End file.
